by Jeff Wheeler
“Welcome home to Sajinau, Captain Guoduan,” the counselor announced. “Your coming is a portent from the Dragon of Dawn.”
“Is it? I bring a cargo of ground millet, peas, and lard.”
Kunmia stepped down the gangway, and Bingmei followed, her skin tingling with dread. She still couldn’t smell the counselor.
“No, Captain. You bring a much more precious cargo than that,” Jidi Majia said. “You bring the lost son home. The prince’s brother. Why should we not greet you and be merry?”
The voice didn’t sound merry, though. It was calm and controlled. When Bingmei finally reached the dock, she could smell Jidi Majia at last. It wasn’t the smell of corruption and murder. This wasn’t Echion nor anything like him. He smelled tart, like the taste of unripe berries that were so sour they made someone’s face turn grotesque. Bingmei’s eyes watered at the overpowering smell. She realized, looking into Jidi Majia’s blue eyes, eyes that startled and surprised her as much as his smell, that she knew what he smelled like.
It was the smell of unspeakable grief.
When he looked at her, just for a moment, that smell was honeyed with hope. His eyes widened as if he recognized her.
“You found her,” he gasped. “You found the phoenix-chosen! It’s not too late!”
Jidi Majia led the way to the palace, his bulky frame keeping an easy pace. The walk had to be one of the strangest experiences of Bingmei’s life. It felt as if time itself had slowed down and she was dreamwalking again. The passengers from the Raven were surrounded by courtiers from the palace. People cheered and waved pennants and poles. They smelled like flowers, a rich variety, and their joy was unfeigned and deep. A few were pungent, but the overall mix of scents made her heady. The trilling of musical instruments dashed through the crowd. While Damanhur basked in the unexpected glory, smiling and waving at the crowd, Rowen walked along with a haunted look on his face. She could tell the lost prince struggled with his emotions at the homecoming welcome.
Bingmei had no idea why they were being greeted in such a manner. Jidi Majia had called her the phoenix-chosen. Why? How had he known about her connection to the sword? As those words had left his lips, she’d felt a tingling down her back as if someone were about to stroke her neck.
Kunmia stayed next to her, eyeing the crowd warily. The exuberant welcome, as if they were returned war heroes, bewildered Bingmei. She’d even heard one person shout that the phoenix-chosen had come to save them. What did it mean? Bingmei had no Phoenix Blade, just an empty scabbard. Yet they cheered and sang and wept.
Guards with huge glaives, dressed in ceremonial armor and pointed helmets, held back the crowds as they passed. The studs on the leather breastpieces flashed in the sunlight, and the dragons decorating their uniforms reminded Bingmei of Fusang. The armor looked bulky and uncomfortable, but the soldiers stood tall, using their glaives to form a wall around them.
Bingmei craved answers, but it was too noisy to speak. Rowen looked back at her, his expression full of worry, but surely the situation wasn’t too dangerous. The smell of this place was so different from Wangfujing, where she’d been despised and treated with contempt. But what did these people want from her? How could she save them?
The gates of the palace reminded her of Fusang as well, especially when she saw two stone lions, one with an orb and another with a cub, set by them. These weren’t the massive bronze ones she’d faced outside the Summer Palace, but they were identical in style, including the slight tilt to the heads. Her heart quivered with fear as she approached them. But nothing happened to the guards as they walked past them and pushed open the heavy doors, revealing a vast courtyard. Inside, thousands of warriors were training. As Bingmei passed the stone lions, she smelled grief. A quick backward glance revealed Mieshi was glaring at the statues. The courtiers fanned out, giving them more space. Someone shouted a command, and all the soldiers hastily assembled into straight rows. They shouted back in unison, the sound crashing like thunder.
As they crossed the courtyard, someone else shouted, eliciting a loud response from the assembly. Bingmei felt small and insignificant behind the towering walls of the courtyard. A mountain loomed beyond the palace, adding to her sense of powerlessness. The huge palace loomed ahead, at the top of a sweeping set of stairs with a wide red carpet down the center. After they crossed the massive courtyard, they began to climb the steps, splitting into two groups walking to each side of the carpet. When Rowen tried to fall in with the ensigns, Jidi Majia shot him a look and nodded toward the carpet.
It was reserved for royalty.
Rowen sighed, his lips twisting into a grimace, and then he walked alone on the red carpet, climbing up the middle.
There were so many steps that Bingmei’s legs began to burn. The voyage by ship had weakened her. She felt sorry for Rowen, walking alone on the carpet. When they were halfway up, she glanced back at the warriors assembled in neat rows, perfectly still, perfectly unified. They were a massive force, more than capable of handling armies of Qiangdao. And the fact that they seemed to be training for war also gave her some relief. Coming to Sajinau had been the right thing to do.
Someone was descending the carpeted part of the stairway from above. Bingmei realized with a start that it was Rowen’s brother, Juexin. She could see the family resemblance, although Juexin was bigger and wore the bulky armor she’d seen among his guards. He had no helmet, and his hair was long and braided. Coming behind him was an elegantly dressed woman—the sister perhaps? She had the cold beauty of some sort of otherworldly creature. She did not look happy to see Rowen.
Juexin met Rowen on the landing below the top set of steps. Jidi Majia also paused, and those behind him were stranded on the steps, staring up at the scene.
Bingmei crept closer, shifting and climbing around the others. She needed to smell this man. She needed to know Echion had not yet infiltrated Sajinau. He looked nothing like Echion, but looks meant nothing. When she sidled up next to Kunmia, she was close enough to smell both the brother and the possible sister.
“You’ve returned,” Juexin said, and Bingmei smelled the scent of antipathy coming from him. This was indeed a complex relationship. Past affection mingled with pain and disappointment. And there was even a hint of jealousy.
“I do not intend to stay,” Rowen answered, keeping his composure.
“Father isn’t here—”
“I know,” Rowen cut him off.
“Please,” the girl said, her voice edged with pain. “Let’s not quarrel. Not here.”
“How did you know I was coming?” Rowen asked, his cheek muscle twitching.
“Jidi Majia had a vision,” Juexin said. “He foretold your return. And he said you would bring the phoenix’s chosen servant with you. Which is she?” The prince looked at those assembled, but when his eyes rested on Bingmei, his lips parted, and a sigh came out. “Oh,” he said, as if shocked. He scrutinized her more closely. “He said your hair would be like copper.”
“It is,” Jidi Majia said, bowing. “It is her.”
“Then welcome, blessed of the phoenix. Slayer of dragons. You who will cross the Death Wall that we may live. Your sacrifice will be honored for generations.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Legend of the Phoenix
Prince Juexin’s words were accompanied by the pleasant, floral smell of gratitude, but the sour weeds of worry he seeded spoiled the effect. There was no doubt he was sincere. There was no confusion as to his motives. He and, it appeared, the entire city were grateful she’d come. They did indeed look to her as someone who could save them from the terrors that were forthcoming. But at the cost of her life? Bingmei’s entire soul recoiled from the thought.
“They are weary from their long journey, my prince,” said Jidi Majia. “This is news to them. Come, Kunmia Suun. Bring your party into the palace for refreshment. You come bearing tidings, no doubt. But there is much you may still learn.”
Bingmei looked into the big man’s s
ad eyes, and her courage began to fray like a cloth being torn.
They climbed the remaining steps to the top of the palace entrance, and the courtiers assembled and bowed in respect as they passed. Bingmei felt the discomfort of being the center of attention. Stationed behind the courtiers stood a row of guards with polished glaives, standing at attention, eyes fixed with discipline. Shouts began in the courtyard below, and Bingmei turned before it was out of sight. The warriors had gathered into squares to recommence their drills. A breeze flowed by suddenly, carrying the pleasant smell of incense. She turned again, then entered the palace atop the huge rampart of steps. There was a threshold, similar to the one in Fusang, that she needed to step over.
Sajinau was a wealthy kingdom, far more so than Wangfujing, and the ornate decorations of the palace awed her. Fresh plants hung from the ceiling in elaborate pots. Decorative urns engraved with animal symbols, mostly lions, brightened up nooks and corners. The array of gleaming marble tiles and elegant curtains bespoke not ancient craftsmanship but recent embellishment. The walls had openings high up with lattice windows that let in the sunlight. It made the palace feel airy and alive. Bingmei craned her neck to see the tall pillars holding up the massive roof and the intricate footings that braced it.
“It has been many years since you last graced our beloved city, Kunmia Suun,” said Jidi Majia as they walked.
“Too many years, sadly,” she answered. “We have heard that King Shulian is on a journey.”
“Yes,” Prince Juexin answered. “My father has been away for some time. He will be saddened that he wasn’t here to greet you in person. But I will perform the duties of hospitality. You are greatly respected, Master Suun. Though I must ask how you came to travel with my brother.”
Bingmei saw Rowen’s face tense. “Why not ask him yourself, Brother?”
“If I thought I’d get an honest answer, I would,” Juexin shot back, revealing a glint of anger that boiled just beneath the surface.
Bingmei saw Jidi Majia’s eyes crinkle with worry. She sensed that the advisor cared for both of the sons very much. Their squabbles were part of the pain he endured. The grief.
Kunmia plunged in before more sharp words could be exchanged. “We met up at King Budai’s palace. Our ensigns joined for the assignment the king gave us.”
“And what assignment was this?” Juexin asked with concern.
“He sent us to seek Fusang,” she replied.
Jidi Majia nodded. He didn’t seem surprised by the answer.
They had walked down the long corridor and entered a banquet hall. The servants had already arranged pillows around the circular tables. Steaming dishes of fragrant food waited at each table. Marenqo’s eyes lit with excitement.
“Master Kunmia, you will dine at the prince’s table,” said Jidi Majia, taking her by the arm and directing her to the head table. Servants approached to escort the guests to their tables and provided them with steaming bowls and cloths to wipe their hands and faces. Bingmei was also led to the head table and was seated next to Prince Rowen and Kunmia. The woman whom Bingmei believed to be the princes’ sister also joined them. Bao Damanhur, Mieshi, and the others were brought to a separate table.
“And you are Guanjia from Wangfujing,” Jidi said, observing the other man. “Please join us as well,” he offered with a gesture. Guanjia bowed in respect, but Bingmei could smell his disdain for the man’s pale skin and snow-white hair, a sentiment she’d often smelled on him in response to her. It soured the wonderful scents of the meal. The dishes had been arranged on a wheel in the middle of the table, and Bingmei watched as the prince began to rotate the wheel, bringing the various dishes around to each person. There were two varieties of soup and several plates of seaweed and rice, which had been rolled up together and slit into logs. Fruit and vegetables were in abundance as well, each served in a syrupy sauce. The prince did not serve himself any food, strangely, and Bingmei wondered at the custom. Her stomach growled in anticipation. For too long, they’d subsisted on the most basic of food.
“So you were sent to find Fusang,” the prince continued after they all had food on their plates. The noise of feasting and conversation from the other tables gave the illusion of privacy. “Were you successful?”
Kunmia nodded as she finished a bite of rice, then said, “We discovered it under a glacier in the northern rim. A fisherman had found a broken piece of the ruins in the bay while searching for crab. He brought it to King Budai.”
A politic way of saying it, although Juexin was already shaking his head.
“He brought it to my brother, actually,” said the prince. He glanced at Jidi, and the two shared a knowing smile. “It should not surprise you that we’ve kept watch over him from a distance. The Jingcha are quite adept at remaining unseen and learning the secrets others wish to keep hidden. Rowen has always been fascinated with the cult of the Dragon of Night.” He gave his brother a meaningful look before turning his gaze back to Kunmia. Bingmei glanced at Rowen and wondered again how much he’d known about Fusang. Could he have warned them about the dangers they’d faced? Of Echion himself? “What you found was not what you expected, I should think.”
“Indeed not,” she replied. “The palace was perfectly intact, concealed beneath a sea of ice.”
The prince nodded. “I’ve been to ice caves in the northern rim on a hunting trip. They’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful and deadly,” Kunmia said. “The Qiangdao had already discovered the ruins. There was a band of them waiting for us, possibly two hundred or more. We killed as many as we could with our combined ensigns. But they lured us into the palace. We lost someone to the guardians at the gate.”
“What kind of guardians?” the prince asked.
“Giant lions made of bronze or copper. Stone animals as well.”
The prince looked at Jidi, who nodded knowingly. This only reaffirmed in Bingmei’s mind that Sajinau knew much more about Echion than the other kingdoms did. What were they hiding? She remembered Rowen had said it was rumored the founder of Sajinau had possessed pale skin and hair, which was why the winter sickness was respected here. Could that ruler possibly be Echion?
“I will be brief, my lord,” Kunmia continued, “since it seems you have information we do not. We entered the palace grounds. I’ve never seen such opulence. Fusang is larger even than this palace. It’s a labyrinth, really, although the style is strangely similar. But we found a burial chamber. There were two stone tombs with effigies carved into the lids. One of a man, the other of a woman.”
“Echion and Xisi,” whispered Jidi Majia.
Kunmia’s brow wrinkled. “How do you know of this?”
“Pardon me,” Jidi said, shaking his head. He look agitated, nervous, full of dread and anticipation. “Please, go on.”
“We opened the tomb of the man,” she said. “There was a corpse inside, though highly preserved.”
Prince Juexin put his fist on the table, his eyes full of worry. “And the phoenix-chosen revived him,” he said in a low voice, his gaze turning to Bingmei. Despite his words, there was no accusation in his gaze. His sister touched his arm.
Bingmei nodded, her appetite beginning to shrivel. “I didn’t know what I was doing, my lord,” she said apologetically.
“Of course you didn’t,” Jidi Majia said mournfully. “How could you have known? There is no record of those rites. All knowledge of it is stamped in effigies. You were merely fulfilling your . . . role.”
“If Echion has awakened,” Juexin said, “then he will seek dominion of all the kingdoms.” His eyebrow cocked as he glanced at Guanjia. “That you are here says misfortune has already fallen upon Wangfujing.”
“It has,” the steward answered. “My master is probably dead by now. Attacked by the mercenary captain he had hired to protect him. A man in disguise, we think. If the young woman here is to be believed, he was slain by the Dragon of Night himself.”
Jidi Majia’s brow wrinkled. “Murder and deception
are his preferred tactics. We can expect nothing less.”
Kunmia leaned forward. “How did you know we were coming, Jidi Majia?”
“Before I answer you,” said the advisor, “can I ask another question? When you arrived at Fusang, did you find any carvings with images of creatures? Not decorations, like urns or vases, but in a plinth or wall of stone?”
“Yes,” Bingmei said, nodding quickly. “There was a very long piece of stone, set into the staircase of one of the palaces.”
“What was depicted there?”
Bingmei looked at Kunmia, who motioned for her to answer. “Mountains. The sea. And two dragons, coiled and entwined.”
Jidi nodded. “I have been studying effigies like that one for many years,” he said. “On my travels on behalf of King Shulian, I have seen them in faraway courts and realms. These images are not mere decorations.” His eyes brightened. “They are stories. Retellings. For years I have wrestled to understand them. Why two dragons? Why the image of the phoenix? I have devoted myself to studying these images. To trying to understand their true meaning. I have traveled great distances and visited many forgotten quonsuun. And more palaces than you can imagine. I even went to the Death Wall.”
The crown prince frowned at this, but he said nothing. Bingmei glanced at Rowen, whose every feature indicated his eagerness and interest.
“It is an immense and foreboding defense,” Jidi said. “But from what? Whatever empire constructed it did so for a reason. But there is no record of when it was constructed or why. There are no records at all. Clues were left behind, but not the key that would unravel them. It is the same for all of the ancients’ structures, including the palace around us. Why are there no settlements on the other side of the wall? There’s nothing but trees and wilderness as far as the eye can see.” He shook his head with despair. “Only animals seem to roam that land. Wild ones. Leopards and ice bears and huge elk with enormous antlers. I became obsessed with understanding these symbols. Why did so many seem to worship the symbol of the dragon? Was one dragon the Dragon of Night, the other the Dragon of Dawn? Were they at war or unified?”